Coma
by Soot
Summary: Chekov is in a coma and Captain Kirk sits by his bed side. slash


Title: Coma

Summary: Chekov is in a coma and Kirk sits by his bed side.

Warning: Slash. Don't like don't read.

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

***

The captain always sat by Pavel Chekov's bed side.

Captain James T. Kirk was always found by the young navigator's bed side when he had a few minutes to spare or when off duty. There were also times when others had found him asleep by the navigator's side, Chekov's cold limp hand in his own.

Chekov's appearance did nothing to reassure Kirk that he would eventually wake up. His face was ashen and gaunt; his hair lifeless while his body that was once so full of life now laid still as a corpse. Kirk was saddened by the 17 year old wiz kid's appearance. Kirk squeezed Chekov's hand, silently hoping and wishing to feel Chekov's fingers move, to feel his hand trying to squeeze his own in return. He longing to see Chekov's beautiful eyes once more, filled with their youth, naivety and innocence.

The longer that Chekov spent in his coma though, the stronger the longing grew.

Kirk knew that there were people in comas who never woke up. Chekov could wake up in five minutes times, or in ten or twenty years or worse yet - never. Also, how would the young Russian take that maybe ten years of his life had passed in what seemed to him as a blink of an eye. Would he remember anything? Would he blame him for what happened - for leading him into that situation that had cost him a section of his life (how large was still unknown) to be spent in a coma?

Kirk hadn't realised the extent of his love for the young Russian until he started to referee to Chekov as 'His Young Russian Beauty' when he was thinking about him. He didn't know when or where he came up with it, he just knew that it was all true apart from the 'his' part, and for all the countless times that Kirk had sat and watched Chekov work, he felt that it was a problem that needed rectifying. He just wasn't sure how.

But now it was too late.

He wished he had told Chekov exactly how he felt; that he had told him that he had come to love him with a fierce passion. How he often daydreamed (and still did) of ravaging Chekov's mouth with his own whilst crushing the young Russian between himself and a wall. In this daydream his hands were on Chekov's hips and he would be grinding his own against the young Russian's, quickly driving Chekov insane with lust. Chekov would mutter and gasping words in Russian as Kirk trailed kisses down his neck; his hands in the Russian's locks, holding Chekov's head back allowing the jaw line to be exposed to his lips.

It was always easy for him to slip off into such daydreams, but now sat looking down at Chekov he found himself wishing that he had acted. Even if Chekov had rejected him it would have been better to know then over the emotional pain he was now in from not knowing, to not have all the 'ifs' and 'buts' racing around his head.

He felt that all those thoughts that were racing around his head were going to eventually send him insane. Guilt for the event that comatose Chekov was destroying his nerves even though he tried not to let it show for the crew's sake. They didn't need to become captain less at such a time so he continued as though all was normal, even though the bridge seemed empty and hollow without the presence of 'His' Beautiful Russian and the accent that could easily send his mind into overload.

Leaning over his fallen beauty, Kirk pressed his lips to Chekov's tenderly. He wanted nothing more than to suddenly feel Chekov kissing back, but just like when he squeezed the Russian's hand, nothing ever came of that wish. Kirk pulled back slightly before tenderly kissing Chekov's forehead and whispering in his ear; "if you can hear me Pavel, know this … I love you". After taking a deep breathe he pulled away from Chekov's still form and stood up to his full height, regaining the composure he felt he had lost from confessing what was his most deeply guarded secret. Taking one last longing look at Chekov, Kirk turned and left the room, silently thinking to himself, "It should be me there."

End.


End file.
